Firefly, Season 2: The Flock
by David S Brown
Summary: The triads give Serenity the lively task of people smuggling, but things take an interesting turn when one of the passengers, a shepherd,  turns out to be something other than what he seems. Post BDMovie, episode 1, reviews welcome. :::COMPLETE:::
1. Chapter 1: Knives and Such

Firefly: Season 2  
The Flock (episode 1)

2007, D. S. Brown

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Chapter 1: Knives and Such

* * *

One good thing could be said about Hera: it was wealthy. It wasn't clean, or hospitable, or by any means safe. It sure as hell's sphincter wasn't pretty; the Unification War took care of that. But its location made it profitable for those who sold, or those who sought to buy. Mal didn't much like being back on Hera, but the capital city was a long way from serenity valley, and business was business. 

"A casino?" Inara said; her large brown eyes wide with a mixture of anger and disgust.

"What, you got moral issues?" Mal replied; his tone flatly sardonic as usual.

"When you said you were taking me out for some fun on the town, I assumed you meant something a little more..."

Mal didn't look at her as he scanned the rows of people filing in and out of the busy establishment. "Well, it's legal aint it? Not like it's a den of petty thieves."

Inara sighed, "I suppose it'll do. But I don't gamble, Mal."

"Neither do I. I come here for the ambiance." He replied as he stepped through the flashing doorway and past the mean looking bald-headed bouncers who were stopping one person in ten to check them for weaponry.

The pair walked a little way into the establishment without speaking while they looked around at the milling crowds and swarming tables. Most of the games were machine-run, but some of the traditional card and dice gambling games remained, as did games such as Mah Jong, for which there were dedicated a full four tables in the large gambling hall.

"You're looking a might shiney, if I didn't already mention." Mal said to Inara, still without looking at her.

Inara looked down at her dress with a half-smile on her lips, as if she was trying to hide her pleasure at the statement. Of course, if a companion meant to hide an expression, it was hidden, and so the coy smile was a deliberate gambit - at least by Mal's reckoning. He hadn't told an untruth, though; her dress truly was beautiful, as always. It was a red, halter-necked Chinese gown of the purest silk, fashioned with delicately hand-stitched rose-branch patters scattered around the body.

"I'd say thank you, but that kind of comment only makes me think you're up to something." Inara said as she stared intently at the side of Mal's face. "Still, I appreciate the attempt at flattery. You're looking fairly smart yourself. For a pirate."

Mal grinned, "I always _liked_ that term. Has more of a ring to it than "petty thief" - don't you think?"

"As companion does to "whore", yes."

"Ah!" Mal said; his straying gaze finally fixed on one area of the room. "The bingo corner! I always wanted to play this game."

Inara stared at the enclosed section of the oriental themed casino. "Bingo." She said flatly.

"Yeah!" Mal said, leading her slowly toward it. "It's a fine game, so they say."

"Isn't it sort of an old woman's game?"

"Grandma Reynolds never played by _these_ rules." Mal smirked, his gaze fixed on a man who was just coming to his feet at a table near the back.

"Bingo!" He roared gruffly, holding a pink-coloured ticket in the air, just above a thick layer of cigarette smoke.

Before he could take a single step toward the front, an arm reached out and grasped firmly to his lank hair, pressing his head down in a quick jerk to collide solidly with the edge of the round table. The man slid limply to the floor, and his assailant snatched the ticket from his grasp and pelted for the prize stand at the front of the section, barging his way past a converging army of greedy gamblers.

Inara stared.

"The trick is not to get too animated if your numbers are called. That way you stand a fightin' chance of getting to the front 'fore somebody knocks out your teeth." The Captain caught the eye of the ticket master at the entrance to the bingo section. "Two." He said, slipping a number of coins into the man's hand, as well as a small piece of paper that escaped Inara's attention.

"Mal!" Inara protested. "I'm not playing this _yěmán_ game."

Mal raised an eyebrow as he brandished the two tickets. "Darlin', these two are for me." He turned back to the ticket master, who nodded towards the corner of the room, where a pair of heavy-set men stood next to an employee-only door.

Inara frowned at the gesture, but knew better than to voice her concerns just yet. She settled for a confused: "And I thought you didn't gamble."

"I don't." The Captain calmly escorted her past the bingo players towards the corner door. "Unless I think I can cheat without getting caught."

Inara had a slightly frightened look as they approached the two men. Both were wearing classic Mandarin-collared kung-fu suits with fastened, vertically arrayed knot-buttons, and both wore heavy dāo knives at their sides.

"Mal…" Inara muttered, almost admonishingly.

"Relax, it's all part of the plan." He handed the tickets to one of the two men, who grunted his permission for the two to enter.

"Zhòu mà! You brought me out here so you could make a deal with some crooks, didn't you!" She hissed as they passed through the door. The two henchmen filed in behind them, all but pushing them into the adjacent room.

"I needed somebody a little fancy lookin' to take the attention off me. I have something of a reputation in this here town. Apologies to come later … keep walkin'."

It was a small, dark room, with one overhanging light that trailed from the ceiling by no more than a cord. It swayed gently in the breeze as the door closed behind the pair of oriental thugs that stood closely behind them.

"Please sit, Captain." A man at the table said. He was accompanied by another gentleman, and another woman, who were all dressed in black, and similarly attired by design. They sat at a long, bare table, the end of which was reserved for Mal and a guest.

"I prefer to stand. It's better for the circulation."

Inara stayed close to Mal's back, her eyes flickering from one corner to the other, scanning the shadows of the dimly lit room.

"Great." She muttered. "Now I'm going to be shot right through my lovely hand-stitched dress."

"Of course you're not." Mal responded, leaning in her direction slightly. "Triads don't use guns."

Inara glared at him.

"You're here for some work, Mr. Reynolds?" The Chinese man at the head of the table said.

Mal nodded. "Xiōng, cháng kěn dài gōngzuò, wèi dàiyù."

The Triads in the room laughed. "You butcher our language, Mr Reynolds."

"And you butcher ours. Anyways, we're all one big happy superpower now 'aint we? Barriers of language and the like shouldn't even _be_, by my reckoning. But heck, I didn't come here to talk language."

The men laughed this time, a little more uproariously than before.

"No, we can see that, Captain." More laughter. Inara stifled a snort.

Mal blinked, then frowned. "Keep those insults comin', and I'll butcher more than your language. Now, what d'ya say we get to business?"

"Right you are, Mr. Reynolds. Right you are. It's quite simple really; a smuggling job."

"Sounds plain sailin', what's the cargo?" He wouldn't usually have asked, but any cargo The Triads wanted smuggled wasn't likely to be apples and oranges.

"People." The woman to the right said.

Mal stared at her for a second. "Hah." He said, realising that he should have expected that. "Well … you see, there's a hitch with that…"

"No hitches." The leader said. "Hitches get people killed."

"What I _mean _is … I can't take the job. There's something of a red flag on my boat right now, and I can't get caught trafficking people. The feds are coming down hard on that there crime these days, and what's more is I don't p'ticularly like the idea of cramming ten people into the nooks and crannies of my firefly. T'aint helthy."

"Twenty."

"What?"

"Twenty people. And you have to take the job, Captain." The Triad said, leaning across the table.

"Really now? How'd you figure?"

"Because red flags have a way of turning black for no particular reason, if you're not careful."

Mal had heard of this. The Triads supposedly had people on the inside of the law - people who pulled certain strings.

"I don't respond very good to blackmail. Point of fact - the last person who tried to blackmail me ended up-"

"The payment is two-thousand platinum, in advance."

"Deal. Nice doing business with you gentlemen."

---

"I can't believe you agreed to this." Inara was saying as the cargo-bay doors wound open.

Mal, Inara, Zoe and Jayne were standing on the catwalks parallel to the entrance, staring down at the new 'cargo' who were about to enter.

"She has a point, Sir." Zoe said with a dry, almost bored expression.

"And I don't like 'em." Jayne rumbled, sitting himself on the stairs. "Don't trust no man that won't carry no gun."

"Shouldn't it be the other way 'round?" Zoe said.

"Well … sometimes. I don't much trust no-one. But _especially_ Triads."

"What's this, a mutiny?" Mal protested. "The pay was too good. Besides, they had large pointy swords."

"Knives." Inara corrected.

"Those dāo things? Coulda fooled me." Mal turned and started walking down the steps to greet the new passengers. "We've dealt with the Triads before. If nothing else, they're mostly honourable."

"Except for that time they didn't pay us." Zoe said, walking closely behind him.

"Well, yes, there was that _one_ time. But apart from that, I kinda like 'em. And they paid us up front this time, which is no small token."

The passengers filed in up the ramp. Most of them looked malnourished and dirty, with nothing but a few rags tied around their bodies to keep them decent.

The Captain spent a moment to talk to the group in Mandarin: welcoming to the ship, wishing them a comfortable voyage, and explaining in no uncertain terms that if they were to touch anything other than the floor and the walls, they would be tied to the front of the ship and left to burn up as Serenity entered the atmosphere of their destination planet.

"I didn't think keel-hauling was still practiced." One of the men said, who was standing near to Zoe. Mal continued his threats, but Zoe turned to look at this man. He was Chinese, with a thin goatee beard and short-cut hair that was shot with strains of grey. But what drew her attention the most was the man's clothing; he was evidently a shepherd.

"Captain likes to keep with the classics." She said; sizing up the man, who seemed better fed than most of the others.

The shepherd nodded. "A man of tradition; I can respect that."

"You're a shepherd?" Zoe asked politely.

"I am. Tong's the name, and this here is my flock." He said, gesturing to the crowd of illegal immigrants.

Zoe frowned, "Should a shepherd be sneaking between regional borders like this? Doesn't that break some kind of shepherding law?"

Tong shrugged "Thou Shalt not move home? To hell with the alliance. Gorram meddlers think they can own a whole planet and keep off those who aint pretty enough to shovel their turd."

Zoe raised her eyebrows slightly. "The last shepherd we had on Serenity was a little less … liberal. Just keep your people in line, and we'll get along fine, lǐnghuì?"

Tong grinned, displaying a couple of broken teeth. "Aye." He said, nodding.

Mal, who was just finishing his sermon, had slipped back into common English. "You can bed on the floor down there. But first sign of trouble and I'm padding you all away for safe keeping, that clear?" Mal waited a second until he was sure that everyone had understood and then he turned and climbed the steps back toward the cockpit. Zoe turned and followed him, casting one last glance back at the new shepherd.

Tong turned to his people and said, "You heard the man, you can bed here. Find yourself a spot and stay out of trouble!"

He sat down, taking his own advice, and pulled open his backpack, from which he hauled a tightly-rolled sleeping bag. He unravelled the blanket on the grilled floor and then turned back to his bag and pulled out a bible. In the instant before his bag drew closed, a pair of heavy pistols could be seen just inside. The safety was off.


	2. Chapter 2: 20 Hungry Men

Chapter 2: 20 Hungry Men

Kaylee made a satisfied humming sound which was almost musical. If she was of the feline species, the sound would have been a purr.

"So gentle." She hummed softly.

Simon turned his head and adored the girl in his arms. "Who is?" He said with the tight-lipped smile and glassy-eyed warm gaze of a man on the verge of sleeping.

"You are, silly, who do you think? I aint talkin' 'bout Jayne, that's for shore."

The doctor laughed, "No I suppose not. The only thing that's soft about _that _man is his wit."

Kaylee giggled and nestled her head deeper into her lover, brushing her tangled hair over his face and neck.

"I thought Doctors were usually – y'know – rough."

"Rough?"

"Yeah. Well … not that I've ever bedded another doctor, but…"

"Oh, you mean their bedside manner."

"Yeah." Kaylee said, still smiling. "Guess I found me the only gentle-pawed Doctor in the 'verse."

Simon kissed her gently on the forehead, which only served to broaden her grin. There was a pause.

"You know … I don't … _have _to …"

"Oh no!" Kaylee protested, turning to look at him in the eyes. "I _like_ it."

"Okay." Simon said, unsure of himself. "But just so you know I _can _be…"

"I'm sure you can." She said, and kissed him on the lips.

He smiled again. "They also say Doctors usually have cold hands, don't they?"

Kaylee blinked and slithered back down into her previous position under the blankets. There was a long pause, and the Doctor frowned.

"Kaylee… do I have cold hands?"

"Not 'specially …"

"I do, don't I?"

"They're freezing. Sorry." She said earnestly, slipping an arm around his pale torso. "But I kinda like it."

"You _do_?" Simon said, seemingly troubled by the realization that his hands were cold.

"I do. It's like … a gentle rain of snowflakes gently caressing my bare skin."

"Poetic." His eyes slowly narrowed mischievously. "But I'm sure I can find a way to warm them up."

He twisted and slipped his hands under the covers, grinning as Kaylee squealed at the sudden shock of the cold hands as they latched onto her. Slipping backwards out of the bed she grabbed a pillow and launched a retaliation attack of her own.

---

The sound of playful laughter filled the ship, reverberating through the metal decks and conduits, right up to the cockpit.

"Well at least someone's enjoying themself."

"Themselves" River corrected, as she steered the ship through the atmosphere, adjusting her trajectory to lessen the stress on the hull.

"Listen, little albertros, I've already had one English lesson this week, I don't need 'nother."

River turned her head and cocked it to the side slightly. "You said it true, Malcolm. You were there for business."

Mal opened and closed his mouth, perplexed as ever at how the girl could pluck thoughts right out of his mind.

"Just – you just keep your eye on the sky, Miss."

River stared wistfully at the clouds as they caressed the windscreen and dispersed around the sides of the ship. The stars were just appearing from beyond the ever thinning blanket of white.

"The sky doesn't need watching. It watches back. It knows."

"I'm glad we understand each other." Mal said, plotting a course on the navmap while he pretended to listen to River's ramblings.

He sat to the right of the cockpit, where Wash had sat day after day for the past few years. Where Wash had died. His dinosaurs were still there, tacked firmly to the console; they hadn't even moved when the Reaver's harpoon had crashed through the windscreen and …

"He didn't feel it." River said softly.

Mal nodded. He had liked Wash, they all had. Wash had been the only member of the crew that everyone had liked, and now he was gone. Eccentric, funny Wash; the pacifist; the Leaf on the Wind.

"No. But others did." The Captain muttered, completing his course adjustments.

River peered over to her left at her own navpanel and shook her head vehemently. Mal looked up and frowned in confusion.

"Wrong way. Can't go that way – not right – not there."

"Woman, just what are you prattling on about now? Do you know the trade routes of this part of the 'verse? Do you know all the places that the Alliance patrol, waiting for ships like us? Do you?"

"Yes."

Mal swallowed. "Oh … well … then you know that we can't go any other way!"

"Don't know that. That's a quandary. I can't _know_ what doesn't _be_."

"I aint gonna talk about this. Between my instruments and some crazy witch's hunch, there aint no contest." Mal said, gritting his teeth.

"Go your way and there'll be blood."

Mal hesitated. River had saved them on several occasions now, but he was still a sceptic when it came to her gift.

"Listen albatross, I've seen you read a fellow's mind, kill a room full o' Reavers, and all manner of _other_ wacky fun, but I'm fair sure that fortune tellin' is a might beyond your wave range. So you do what your told, and earn your keep as the pilot, but _not _the Captain. That's _my _job." Mal rose and started for the exit, but turned and pointed at the girl. "Even if I get us all shuffled, that's _still _my job."

River waited a few moments until she was sure he was gone, and then switched the controls onto autopilot and slid over to the navpanel, pressing buttons as quickly as Wash ever would have been able.

"Quandary." She said obstinately.

---

"Mal!" Jayne called as he heard footsteps approaching the dining area.

Mal stepped through the door and grimaced, rubbing the base of his neck with his left hand. Zoe was sitting at the table with her feet hitched up on another chair. She tilted her head as the Captain glanced her way, her expression saying 'Sir, I have no idea what's going on.'

"What?"

"All the food's gone!" Jayne twanged.

"We had some?"

"Yeah!" Jayne seemed aggravated.

"Which _you_ didn't eat all of?"

"There was a gorram mule's weight last time I was in here."

Mal walked past and headed for the staircase down into the cargo bay, cursing in Mandarin as he went. The catwalk shuddered as it rhythmically clanked under the man's heavy boots, and his stomping drew the attention of several bystanders.

"Mal!" Inara called as the Captain passed near to the entrance to her shuttle.

He turned and his eyes narrowed slowly in anger at the sight of two of the twenty immigrants seemingly attempting to enter Inara's shuttle. One had his hand placed firmly over the entrance, stopping Inara from running, while his gaunt face was bowed close to her ear, no doubt whispering either sweet nothings or threats; though they were mostly one and the same thing with low-life's like him, Mal decided.

"They want to "visit" me." Inara said, pushing the other man firmly away.

Mal reached the men in two strides, caught one by the shoulder and yanked him around. With a closed fist and a sweeping swipe, he landed a solid punch between his eyes, causing him to stumble and buckle. But before the man could collapse, Mal reached out and grabbed the man's shirt, yanking him fully off his feet and soaring over the catwalk railings. The man's friend charged at the Captain, but was neither quick enough nor angry enough to block the elbow that crunched downward into his diaphragm, or the following knee strike as it thumped hard against his groin.

Even as the groaning started, Mal turned to the herd and said, "Now I weren't jokin' when I said touch nothing but the walls and the floor. Our companion is neither of those, so I suggest you keep your grubby mitts off that which you can't afford. Sure, eating my food is one thing, but there aint no way you could have gone through all of my supplies in little over an hour, is there?" He pulled free his pistol and fired into the air, hoping as he did so that the bullet didn't ricochet back down into the skull of one of their guests.

"Now I'm thinking one of you malnourished thieves has a good portion of that missing food in one of your bags. So …" he continued pointing his gun down at the crowd in general, "You've got ten seconds to pour out the contents of those satchels, 'fore I start taking back my stolen produce in body parts. A man's _diǎo_ can fetch a pretty penny on the black market if it's severed right." He cocked his gun, which made a threatening click, "And if you're _lucky_, I'll sever them right."

Tong looked at his men, seemingly nervous. "The man who was stupid enough to do this better come forward pretty quick." He said; his stern tone even more chilling than the Captain's.

"One… two … I'm not foolin' around now. I'd just as soon kill you all and keep the Triad's payment for my wasted ammo."

The shepherd edged towards his bag. Slowly.

"Three … four…"

The shepherd bent to his bag, opening it up. None of the other men followed suit, but they seemed to edge towards them slightly.

"Five … why are ya'll bein' so shy? What you keeping' in those satchels o' yours? Dirty magazines? Six…"

Tong's hand slipped into his bag. A trickle of sweat formed at the corner of his hair-line.

"We don't have to open our bags up for you, Captain!" One of the oriental men shouted. He seemed unafraid to the point of defiance.

"Seven … true. You could take a bullet instead."

"_Or … _the man who stole the good Captain's food could come _forward_." Tong insisted.

"Nine."

One of the men turned his bag over, spilling cans and packets of various nutritional supplements over the floor. There was a scratched and worn machete knife amidst the mess.

Mal slipped his gun back in its holster and smiled without baring his teeth. "Now there's a good thief."

The thief held up his hands, seemingly worried that the tyrannical Captain might just shoot him anyway.

The shepherd released his gun, and breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled his hand free of the bag.

---

"Just what is a stowaway doin' with a big old knife like that anyways?" Kaylee said as Zoe took her seat the kitchen table, having just locked the man away in the storage room.

"It's a dangerous kinda life." She replied, shrugging.

"No more dangerous than the captain of your ride finding a machete in your bag. He's just lucky that Capn's a nice man."

Zoe cocked her eyebrow.

"Well … an honourable man… sometimes." She said with a sweet smile.

"Not sure you could call our line of work honourable." Zoe observed.

There was an awkward silence for thirty or more seconds as the two women sat and stared at the various inanimate objects about the room.

Kaylee studied Zoe for a moment, and finally seemed to get the courage to say something: "Zoe … I never got to say what with things going so quickly and all. I liked Wash a lot. He made me laugh, and I liked him."

Zoe stared at Kaylee, her eyes sad but relentless in her attempt not to show any emotion. Finally she looked away and took a deep breath.

"I didn't. 'Least not at first." She explained. "He was a cocky bèndàn, and he would undress me with his eyes every time I was in the room. Also…" She gestured to her top lip. "I hated his lip walrus. Made him look like a used ship salesman."

Kaylee giggled, "Don't get me started on used ship salesmen … I could go on…"

"But … the man made me laugh. What can I say? I'm a sucker for funny guys, and Wash had this carefree way about him that let him turn any situation into a joke. We could be facing down _death herself_ and he would say something that would make everything seem …"

"Trivial?"

Zoe stared Kaylee in the eyes and a flicker of emotion scattered across the muscles of her face. Like a shooting star; if Kaylee hadn't been looking so deeply at the time, she was sure she would have missed it.

"Yeah. That's it exactly. I needed some triviality, and a reason to laugh. _He_ was that reason. Hell he was the reason I got out of bed in the morning."

"Or stayed in it." Kaylee grinned devilishly.

Zoe smiled too, "Or that." She chuckled slightly.

"Cap'n didn't like him either at first, I hear?"

Zoe shook her head, "Actually, he did. The Captain doesn't much express his likes, but I could tell."

"So why did he forbid you to marry him?"

"I guess … 'cos it complicates things. Lose one of us and I s'pose he figured he'd loose both of us."

There was a moment of quiet, and then Kaylee said: "And did he?"

Zoe stared off into space. "No." She said confidently. "Just one."

"Zoe…" Kaylee reached over the table and grabbed the woman's hand. "It's okay to grieve. T'aint natural not to; t'aint healthy neither."

Zoe locked eyes with her again. "Somewhere – maybe heaven, maybe hell, maybe on the great wheel – Wash is still mocking and jesting, still laughing and making light of it all. Wash didn't much like grieving … not because it was unmanly … but because it meant that life had beat him. I'm willing to bet that when death came for my husband, he laughed in her face and called her a xiānxì shānyáng's qīzi. So no, Kaylee, I aint grieving."

Kaylee squeezed her friend's hand and gave her a sad smile.


	3. Chapter 3: Technical Difficulties

**Chapter 3: Technical Difficulties**

* * *

"I hardly touched him!" Mal protested; his hands spread defensively.

"He's dead, Captain."

Mal bent to take a closer look at the man's face. He was a white man with a scraggly half-mature beard which seemed in-growing in more than a dozen places, which appeared to be causing a speckled rash over the man's neck.

"He didn't even fall that far!" Mal said, tilting his head to make sense of the fellow's additionally odd discolouration.

Simon came to stand next to his Captain. "You see here?" He said, pointing to the strange purple swelling that traversed most of the dead man's arms and neck. "That was my first clue that the fall wasn't the thing that killed him."  
"So … I hit him too hard?" Mal seemed to puff up with manly pride.

The doctor shook his head, "Actually, it was neither the punch nor the fall that did it."

Jayne pointed a large, wide digit at the Doctor. "Yeah I heard that it's the ground that'll kick yer, not the fall. Aint it right, Doc?"

"Very astute." Simon almost grimaced. "But not what I meant. When this man hit the floor, he did more than bruised his spine. He ruptured a silicone pack inside of his lower abdomen."

Mal frowned. "He was smuggling something?"

"Yes. What that substance is … well it could be a number of things. But it was evidently a narcotic so potent that the high dosage killed him within minutes. He died of massive heart failure."

Mal turned to Jayne, "Get up top and keep an eye on the rest of 'em. No telling how many of these bei nanmin are carrying these things, and what lengths they'll go to keep it a secret."

Jayne flexed his right bicep and slapped his tensed arm, "I'm on it."

The Captain turned around just as River was entering the infirmary. Her expression was spacey as always. Like a curious wandering puppy, seeing wonder and intrigue in all new things, cocking her head in puzzlement as she tried to fully understand things as complex as death.

"This one doesn't make a sound."

Mal studied her for a second. "Dead people tend to do that. What with them being dead and all."

"That's what I said. He died wishing he hadn't left home … he wished he hadn't met who he met, and gone to where he went." Her voice was stoic and wistful as spoke as if reciting poetry. "He wished he could have seen his Mother one last time."

"Aint that touching." Mal grunted. "What about the others? What sound do they make? An ode to their grandpa's maybe? A full 3 verses of amazing grace?"

River squinted. "Too many to say. Like a hundred gulls all asking for different fish." She shook her head, flapping her oily hair about her face, "I could go ask them?"

"Go with Jayne. Don't _talk _to any of 'em, just stand by and try to find out what they're thinkin'."

River nodded and scampered off. Simon looked after her as if he was about to tell her to be careful, and then he seemed to remember who she was. He turned his gaze back to his cadaver, which he was currently prodding with various instruments.

"Doctor, I wanna know exactly what drug these people want to keep a secret from us _smugglers. _I get the firm impression that the job paid so well 'cos it included danger money."

"It shouldn't take me more than ten minutes to identify."

"Good. I'll be in the cockpit. Our new pilot doesn't like to stay where she's put."

---

Mal came up into the main corridor before the cockpit.

"Trouble?" Said Zoe, who fell into step behind him.

"Might be." The Captain said as he walked quickly up to the navpanel to check how far along they were.

There was a pause as Mal's face turned quickly from confusion, the shock, to disbelief, to anger.

"Da-shiong bao-jah-shr duh la doo-tze!" He swore.

"Elephant?" Zoe asked, not quite getting Mal's Chinese.

Mal pointed to the console, "She changed my gorram flight plan! The little punk!"

"That bad, Sir?"

Mal leaned into the console and frowned some more. "She's taking us straight to Bernadette instead of 'round the edge of the system like I set it."

The Captain had deliberately charted a slightly longer course to avoid any common law patrol areas that were typical within this area of the core system. His aim at been to head outwards and round the span of the system, before coming back in to meet the moon of Bernadette, but River had put them on the most direct route possible, even when he had ordered her not to.

"Sir…" Zoe said.

Mal was still staring at the console. "Me and the little one are gonna have some words after this is finished."

"Sir…"

"I might have to re-think her promotion …"

"Sir!"

Mal looked up at Zoe and followed her gaze right out of the front window. There, in the distance but closing, was a high-bulk Alliance fed squad ship running right for them.

The com transmission crackled to life. "Firefly class vessel. You are entering Bernadette air-space. Respond."

Mal closed his eyes and breathed deep, attempting to dispel the anger and frustration of yet another job that appeared to be going horribly wrong. He flicked a switch and the monitor blinked on, revealing a grey-headed federal officer in full uniform. He looked like he was having a long day, which Mal could relate to.

"This is the Captain speaking, what can I do you gentlemen for?"

"Cut your engines, Captain. We're conducting a random check of all inbound freighters and transporters."

"This is kinda irregular, Captain." Mal responded. "Don't the Alliance have some pretty strict rules about boarding merchant vessels in this zone? I believe you need a warrant if you suspect us of smuggling."

"New amendments. We have jurisdiction to search any ship we believe could be harbouring illegal aliens."

Zoe folded her arms and muttered something in Mandarin about the Alliance and their "amendments".

"Illegal aliens? They posing some sort of security issue recently? Terrorists or such…"

"Never mind, Captain. Power down your engines immediately or we _will _open fire."

Mal stared at the screen. "What ever you say." He flicked the switch back down and the monitor turned off.

"What now?" Zoe asked.

"We're humped." The Captain replied as he reached for the intercom. He pressed the button and spoke: "This is your Captain speaking; we're experiencing some technical difficulties with the feds right now, please run and hide. I repeat, please run, and then hide … in that order."

The intercom crackled and then a Simon's voice could be heard. "Captain, we need to talk."

"Not now, Doctor, I've got the feds threatening to open fire and a ship full of insane sword-brandishing drug-smugglers to hide. Zoe, power down the engines."

"Knives." Zoe corrected as she slipped into the helm seat.

"About the drug-smuggling part…" Simon replied.

Mal clenched his jaw, "Make it quick."

"It's phaerrapropraline."

"That what I think it is?"

"I believe the street name for it is "Bliss". But it's also known as "Special Brew", "Duce", "Liquid Fire" and "Huggy Bear"."

"That's … not what I thought it was."

"It's commonly known that pherrapropraline is the most addictive drug in the known system, but what's not know about it is that prolonged use causes gradual insanity, homicidal tendencies, and if you're lucky, death. This drug has _no_ medicinal purposes, Captain."

Zoe came out of the chair and pulled free her handgun, already moving toward the door. Mal was close behind, his expression furious.

"We kill them before the feds board and then claim a reward."

"Understood, Sir."

But as they passed into the dining area, they stopped in their tracks as the slight form of River rolled across the floor, gagged and bound, and unconscious. The immigrants filed into the room, armed with guns, swords, knives and clubs without exception. Jayne stumbled out from the back of the crowd, his arms tied and his shoulder streaming with blood from a nasty gash that appeared dangerously deep. His lip and nose were busted. It took two men to keep him in check, but one of the men held a gun firmly pointed at the giant's temple.

"Drop your weapons, both of you." The oriental man said. This was the one who had been defiant earlier on when Mal had threatened the food thief. "Or this brainless, malodorous, oath gets even _less_ brainless."

Mal and Zoe gave each other a glace.

"When he puts it like _that…" _Mal said, his gun pointed at the nearest enemy.

"Well, don't stand there thinkin' 'bout it!" Jayne whined. "Do as he ruttin' says!"


	4. Chapter 4: A Yanshi and a Jianying place

**Chapter 4: Between a Yanshi and a Jianying Place**

* * *

"I thought _Traids_ didn't use guns. Or do ya'll toil for some _other_ crime syndicate?" Mal accused.

"We have to move with the times, when situations dictate the need." The leader said, his long, slanted eyes a steely calm hue of deep chocolate. "We only use blades to uphold our savage reputation, so that nobody thinks of _crossing_ us. It's tradition, you understand."

Zoe was getting impatient. "We didn't call the feds. But they're gonna be swarming over this ship in a matter of minutes!"

"And that's why you're gonna help us." The man's long shanks hung loosely in a damp sweep across his brow and left eye.

Mal snorted, "Really now? Help you? You've brought trouble down on me and mine; suffice it to say that I am _not _a happy bunny."

"The Triads had no intention of ever getting you into trouble, Mr. Reynolds. But you should have taken the necessary precautions to avoid it."

Mal looked down at River and glared at the unconscious girl. If she wasn't unconscious he would have taken the opportunity to curse at her.

"Cap'n!" Jayne roared, "I don't much enjoy the feel of the tip of a cold gun pressed to my forehead! Let's put down our weapons and reason this one out, huh?"

"What do you want?" Mal said.

The Triad leader responded: "Start the engines back up and outrun them."

"That's not an option. They're breathing down our necks as we speak. The first sign of our engines re-bootin' and they're gonna put holes through this ship that'll suck us out into the black 'fore you can say '_Ai ya_.'"

"Then get rid of them!"

"I _can't_!" Mal yelled back. "They are docking any second now!"

The Triads gave each other sideways glances, unsure of how to proceed. Mal waited them out, bent on bluffing right to the final second.

"We can hide y'all, and make sure the feds leave sharpish." Jayne said.

"And if you betray us we're sitting ducks inside some air vent, waiting to be taken down." He gestured to River and Jayne, "We're keeping these two with us, so that we can be sure you'll keep your end of the deal."

---

"So you're not really a Shepherd I take it?" Zoe asked as she screwed the plates back in over a group of four men.

"Actually, I am." Tong's voice said from behind the metal grills. "I had no idea these men were carryin' drugs – a whole handful of us had no idea; like the man who stole the chow."

Zoe sighed, crouching by the wall of the cargo bay in Mal's favorite hiding spot. "If things get ugly, you duck for cover, preacher man. Watch out for you and yours and don't try to be a hero."

She stood up and joined the rest of the crew, who were waiting in the center of the hold.

Simon had just joined them after hiding the dead man's body in a vent over the infirmary. He looked worried for his sister, as though he was barely containing his urge to attack the men who were holding her hostage. His flushed face was indignant with rage just simmering at the surface, and his fists clenched and unclenched as he stood facing the bay doors. Kaylee slipped an arm around his middle and he seemed to soften ever so slightly.

"River goes helpless right at the wrong time, don't she?" Mal muttered. He had visibly tensed up even more when the Triads had informed him that they were taking Inara hostage also. Right now she was being held somewhere under their feet, with a knife to her throat.

"They must have sneaked up on her." Simon said. "Captain, I'm not loosing her like this."

Mal studied the Doctor with the closest thing his expression ever got to sentimentality. "They'll have to cut me down 'fore I let anyone put a bullet to River." He looked towards the bay doors, where Kaylee was standing. "Let them come, Kaylee."

Kaylee slammed her palm on the large button and backed away quickly, her hands already in the air.

The feds flooded through the entrance – a full squad of twenty men – all searching the corners of the room through the scope of their Alliance rifles as they span this way and that; organized - at least to the common eye. The crew each had a gun trained on them before they could even say 'hi'.

"This is gettin' to be standard procedure for the law these days?" Mal said as the federal captain approached.

"Just keep your hands up, Captain. We won't take long on our search. In the mean time, I suggest you drop the indignation. We're not your enemies … at least not unless you're a criminal."

"Then we'd just love to throw you a tea-party after you've finished pointing lethal weapons at our skulls. Perhaps we can have cake, too. Kaylee, we got any cake?"

The fed squinted as if shocked and appalled that a lowly starship captain would even consider talking to him in such a tone.

"We got lots of cake _mix_, cap'n, which is just as good _as._"

"Delightful." Mal said with a smirk.

"Listen, indie!" Mal assumed that meant 'indipendant', which was meant as an insult nowadays, much in the same way 'commie' was five-hundred years back. "Don't think I wont beat you down just for –"

"Arrrrrrrrrrggggghhh!" Came a battle cry from somewhere at the back of the bay.

Shots were fired. One. Two. The fed Captain span – three - then he went down, a hole in his head and a gaseous cloud of scarlet dew drifting where he had been standing a moment before.

Mal grabbed Kaylee and yanked her to the side of the complex, heading quickly for the cargo crates. He slipped in behind a heap of them and was already pulling free a spare pistol from his leg-holster before the fifth shot was fired.

Zoe slid around the other side of the boxes and peaked over the top, not two feet from the Captain and Kaylee. "I thought they were gonna stay put?"

"Looks like they got cramp."

Simon ran for his life, his hands covering the back of his head as he leaped up the catwalk steps three at a time, heading for the duct where River had been stashed. A bullet skimmed his chest and tore a hole through his shirt, landing with a dull thud in the neck of a nearby federal officer as he attempted fall back to a defensible position.

"Simon, be careful!" Kaylee screamed as Mal passed her a handgun. "Who do I shoot?" She said, her eyes wide with fear.

"Preferably the Triads. But if a fed gets in your way, take him down. We'll write apology letters later."

Shepherd Tong pulled his way out of the vent and glanced around the chaos. In front of him a man with a machete charged down an officer, took a bullet in the stomach, but cut down into the man's head with a vicious cleave using the last ounce of his strength. Both men collapsed in a bleeding heap. Another man struggled to get clear of the melee, rushing unarmed for the med bay at full speed.

"Hans!" The shepherd called after him. But it was too late. He grimaced as the man was sprayed with a line of bullets raked across his back.

Tong dropped his hands to his belt. "Dear Lord." He said, as he snatched two handguns from his middle. "I apologize for the men that I am about to shoot. But frankly, Lord, they deserve it." He fired a flurry of wild shots at two officers who had taken up a defensive position at the metal staircase, and both men were sent falling backwards - dead before they hit the floor.

"Amen." He concluded.

Several Triads had come to the catwalk balcony that overlooked the cargo-bay, and they picked off a number of feds before they even knew where the fire was coming from. Bullets fell like deadly rain on the confused law men, and they fell back, seeking the haven of their ship. But before they could reach the open doorway, a Triad with a long dao knife slapped the controls, closing their escape.

But then Mal was there, his eyes wild with fury, his gun smoking as he used it to cut a path out before him. Three triads were gunned down by the Captain, who walked calmly through the chaos, firing at anyone who dared move. They had turned his ship into a warzone, and he came at them like a maternal bear protecting her young. A lawman made the mistake of aiming a rifle at him, but Mal just snarled and swiped a solid backhand blow across the man's face, which sent him scattering into the wall. Another uppercut to the kidneys and the federal agent simply crippled.

Zoe had got her hands on a shotgun, but she operated with a little more tactical finesse than her single-minded counterpart. With quick, precision aiming she ducked in-and-out of cover, shooting down targets near and far with very little prejudice. At one point, her gun trained on the Shepherd as she leaned around the tower of crates, but her astute reflexes froze her trigger finger just in time.

Kaylee was next to her, holding the gun she had been given in the same way a man might hold a live bomb.

Zoe sighed, "Kaylee, just stay put. If anyone gets past me, then you can worry about using that thing, OK?"

Kaylee cringed as Zoe stood up and fired another volley of shotgun bullets into the catwalk.

---

The Doctor held out his hand, as if he could use it to catch any bullets that were fired at him.

"You don't want to do this." Simon said to a group of three Triads who had come down inside of the dining area, having hidden in the overhead panels. One of them held River by the hair, and his knife rested calmly on her shoulder facing her neck.

"We warned you! You ratted on us the moment the feds were in position!"

"No!"

"We told you didn't we! Now the little girl has to pay in blood, if I'm gonna keep my word!"

"No! Wait!" Simon said frantically, his wide eyes staring into those of his Sister.

A metallic _click _came from somewhere behind him. The Triads froze.

"You men best get smart." The Shepherd said as he came to stand by Simon, his guns pointed at two of the three Triads – the meanest looking ones. "You didn't come here to spill blood."

"You gonna betray your own people, Shepherd? Your _own _blood?"

Tong looked down his nose at the men, "Just 'cos you the same color as me, jiaoyi zhe, don't mean you're my people."

The triad on the end pumped his shotgun threateningly, "You talk like a preacher, but you hold guns like a fighter. Which are you?"

"A little of both. Now let the girl go, she aint got nothin' to do with this."

"And if we let her go, what then? You gonna come with us and take care of the rest of the law men?" The man holding River said as he sidestepped around the dining table, nearly tripping over several chairs he passed them.

But the shooting had stopped sometime in the seconds gone. Either everyone was dead, or they were on their way to the upper decks to finish the job.

"Let her go and I'm your man. You'll need all the hands you can get if you're gettin' out of this alive, dealer." Tong spat, "Hell, I don't intend to wind up in no federal prison, neither. We're all in the same boat here."

"This is your Captain speaking." Came Mal's voice, echoing from all the adjacent rooms. "Please report to the cargo bay for a public execution – ooof…" There was a muffled thump.

Then another voice took his place: "All remaining crew get down here, or there _will _be a public execution. Starting with your lovely companion friend."


	5. Chapter 5: Bullet Dodging Fun

**Chapter 5: Bullet Dodging Fun**

* * *

The man held out a blade to Shepherd Tong, turned hilt-first, the steel tucked under the Triad's arm.

"Take it." The Triad leader said.

Tong stared him down. He had a stare that could probably unnerve Operatives.

"Take it and prove what side you're on. I'm giving you a chance to make up for turning against us. You do this and we'll spare you're life, Christian. I wouldn't want to kill one of my own people unless I _had_ to. Do this, and we'll let you go."

The small Shepherd hesitated, and then reached out to take the hilt of the massive knife. He looked to his left, scanning the row of prisoners, all of whom had their hands tied behind their backs, and some of whom were gagged.

Mal strained to look over his shoulder. He had taken a heavy beating, and dark blood trickled down freely from his mouth which evidenced possible internal bleeding.

"Do the job yourself, coward." Mal said, spitting blood over Inara, who was lined up next to him.

"Thanks, Mal." She muttered angrily, grimacing in disgust.

"Sorry."

"Sorry? Oh, great, _now_ you say sorry! You drag me into a den of thieves without a word of warning, nearly get us arrested, and possibly executed, and _now _you apologize to me?"

Mal looked confused, "You still mad about that casino thing? Listen, it was a last minute thing; didn't even know the Triads had work for us 'til we were all dressed up and ready to hit the town. Honest!"

"Shut up, both of you!" One of the Triads shouted, waving a gun in their faces.

The feds had been executed first. They had been stabbed to death where they fell - even those that had only been knocked unconscious; the men had cut their throat as they lay groaning on the floor. And now it was the crew's turn.

"We _didn't_ betray you." Zoe said, biting off her words "One of your men got jittery and he went trigger-happy."

"That doesn't really matter now." The Triad leader said calmly, "Now we have a ship full of dead feds, and the only witnesses left are the crew of the vessel that will show up on the fed ship's security cameras. You're on their log. And now, when a rescue team turns up, they'll find a ship where a battle left no survivors. It happens, you know."

Jayne laughed; "You think they gonna see the sword wounds and assume _we_ did it? As if anyone else is stupid enough to fight lawmen with blades! They'll _know_ it was you Triads!"

The man cocked his head, "Good point!" He said, handing the Shepherd one of his guns back.

Mal glared at Jayne and sighed.

"Men, use your guns instead. You first, Shepherd."

Tong wrinkled his nose at the man, but he didn't dare say anything or turn the pistol on him, as another gun was at his back, pointed unwaveringly at his spine. He nodded slowly and walked to where River was kneeling, still gagged and bound by her hands, which were kept tightly behind her back. He hovered behind her, as if wrestling with his own fear. To kill or be killed … it was a difficult decision, even for a man of God.

"No funny moves, preacher. This is your test. Blow it, and the man behind you blows your head off."

Mal was swearing in Chinese. Simon tried to stand, but was kicked down by one of the remaining five gangsters. Kaylee was crying.

Shepherd Tong lifted his gun arm.

River stared into space; her face was sleepy, almost serene. She lifted her head and closed her eyes.

"Don't you dare, you ruttin' son of a whore! Don't you ruttin' dare!" Mal roared, also trying to stand. But one of the men stepped up to him and smashed him across the cheek with the butt of his pistol. "Preacher! Please!"

Shepherd Tong took aim. His finger twitched.

He fired.

River was standing even before her bonds fell apart; cut in two by the bullet. Her grazed arms rose up, anticipating the plan as Shepherd Tong's gun span mid-air and dropped into her open palms.

Tong ducked aside.

River moved as gracefully as a swan taking flight. Her wings unfolded, her head held high. A dao knife sliced the air in front of her, but she leaned aside as if it was no more dangerous than a falling leaf drifting gently on a summer's breeze.

Her gun arm moved in a sweeping horizontal ark, not even pausing as the pistol released four consecutive shots in a single split second. Four men dropped dead; bullets already deep in their skulls.

The fifth time, the gun clicked. Empty.

The Triad leader backed up a step, his gun pointed at the young girl.

"What the …" He stammered, his eyes wide with shock as the realization of what had just happened struck him. "Who the _hell_ _are_ you?"

River winked at him, and dropped the empty gun. She brushed the hair out of her eyes and tucked it over her left ear.

"Fine! Let's see if you can dodge _bullets_, guay-nu!"

River blinked, her face a serene mix of acceptance and readiness. She glossed over his thoughts as if reading them from a magazine. When was he going to fire? What was he going to aim for?

_Not yet._

He clenched his jaw. His face flushed slightly.

_Not yet._

His arms tensed.

_Now!_

River ducked forward and rolled just as the bullet was fired. The Triad stepped back again. Her open palm delivered a swift chop neatly to the base of his throat, causing a sickening crunch as his windpipe was crushed. He gagged, stumbled back, reached for his neck, and then collapsed.

There was a long moment of silence.

"I'm thinkin' his mistake was callin' her a guay-nu." Jayne murmured.

---

Jayne slapped Vera on the dining table and smiled as he very slowly – and very deliberately – scraped the huge hunk of metal across the smooth surface until it was in position just under his heavy paws.

Mal smiled at the Shepherd. "My friend Jayne here wants to take his anger out on somebody yeller skinned. I tried to tell him that racism aint welcome on this boat, but he gets a tad emotional after he's been tied up and stabbed a few times."

Jayne shrugged, "My Grandma was half yeller. But right now all I see is red."

Tong looked surprisingly un-phased. "Cap'n Reynolds, there aint no need for threats. I can relate to you feelin' suspicious and all…"

"Can you?" Mal said, leaning slightly toward him. "How did you know that River was gonna catch that gun? How did you know that she would – and _could_ – take down all five o' those men just as easy as a cat in a locked crate with five blind mice?"

"God help me." Tong muttered. It was more of an exasperation than a plea for divine help.

"Aint nobody gonna help you, Shepherd. Not God, not the Alliance, not the gorram Tooth Fairy." Mal's voice had dropped in volume slightly, but it took on a more dangerous edge. "Just what is a _Shepherd _doin' carrying guns – and puttin' folks down? You aint no Shepherd, are you?"

"I am. At least … technically."

"Technically? I saw you _technically_ kill people. Law men."

"I'm a Shepherd, not a saint."

Jayne leaned back in his chair and crossed his large arms over his chest, stretching his t-shirt and accentuating his broad shoulders. "I'm thinkin' you'll be a saint fairly soon, 'less the Cap'n starts to get some answers."

"Now you saved us back there, and I appreciate that." Mal said. "But River … she's something of importance to this crew. A lucky charm, you might say. What do you know about her, and how?"

Tong seemed to hesitate before saying: "Shepherd Book sent me."

Mal just stared for a moment.

"Truth is…" Tong continued, "It was his job to protect River. It was why he was sent to Serenity in the first place."

"Sent?" Mal frowned, "What do you … preacher, you best start making sense."

"Book and I come from a faction known as The Shepherds. Technically, it's a different organization to the church. Well … more than technically. We watch over people."

"Why?"

Tong also folded his arms, "That I can't tell you. All you need to know is that our sponsors have a vested interest in keeping your ship sailin', but _especially_ River. All I can say is that we are friends to your cause, Captain."

Mal clenched his jaw. "Shepherd Book sailed with us for a goodly while. He became more than a passenger, he became our _friend_. So I think that we deserve an explanation."

"I can't offer you one. I'm not afraid to die, Mr. Reynolds. But I _am_ afraid of what'll happen if say anything more. If it brings you any comfort, Shepherd Book never did anything to imperil yours. The opposite; he watched your back. And I offer my services in a similar capacity."

The Captain laughed – a little at first – but it turned quickly louder and more hearty. It was an ironic, dry laugh; the sort of laugh a man laughed when the choice was between that, or crying. Finally he stood up and went abruptly to leave.

"Mal?" Jayne called after him.

Mal stopped by the door, refusing to look back. "I want him locked up, and thrown off our ship when we next touch down. Roughly."

"Yessir!" Jayne responded.

Mal climbed the steps and walked the short passageway toward the cockpit. As he entered, Zoe looked up. She sat on the console, watching over River, who piloted the vessel as they changed course, speeding away from the federal derelict as fast as they could run.

"Something up, Sir?" Zoe asked as Mal came in. "You look … somethin'."

Mal sighed, "It's nothin'. I'll explain later. Now … me and Albatross have to have a little heart to heart."

Zoe moved aside and slipped into the other seat at the control panel, while Mal took her place leaning against the console, facing River who was facing away, staring out of the window as usual.

"Now … please correct me if I'm wrong, girl, but your approximate words were something to the tune of "if you go your way, there's gonna be blood". Well I'm seein' plenty o' blood in our hold right now. Any _more _blood an' I'm thinkin' we could have saved a ton of creds on re-painting the shipNot the cool blue that Kalee and I agreed upon, though._"_

"At least nobody was killed." River said softly.

"No, of course not. Only twenty lawmen, and an equal number of people in our charge."

River looked up at him. "How do you know that those people wouldn't have died either way?"

"How do _you _know they _would_? Huh!?" Mal's anger was slowly building up, his patience rattled and wearing thin. "You know what? Get out of here, River. You can't obey my orders then you sure as hell aint flyin' Serenity."

River stood up, graceful as a companion, and drifted off towards the exit. But before she reached the doorway she turned back and said: "Listen." And then she was gone.

Mal stared after her.

"Sir, we've got an incoming transmission. It's an open wave signal to all nearby ships."

Mal turned back to Zoe. He wore the expression of a man who wasn't quite sure what was going on anymore. Zoe noticed his expression and keyed in the command to play the signal aloud.

"This is the Allia- …" static "… Rising Star … warning to all vessels and stations in the … -ity …" The signal seemed to die and then phased back into life "…-vers attacking. I repeat: we are under attack from Reavers."

"Visual! Visual!" Mal was practically shouting. "Clear up that interference!"

The monitor sparked to life. It was fuzzy, but it cleared in waves. Like a horrific puzzle being completed before his eyes. He could make out the image before it was finished, but some part of him wished it wasn't so, that somehow the final piece would change the overall picture, and it would be an optical illusion after all.

"They number into the thousands." Came the voice. "They are heading right for Bellarophon."

The images confirmed it: it was no mere raiding party. The Reavers came in numbers too high to count by sight. Their twisted, rusted ships drifted onwards, silent in the black of space, but chilling to behold. This wasn't like before … _this _was an invasion fleet. The Reavers had finally invaded, and they were headed right for the core system – right for the most prosperous – and heavily populated - planets.

"Zoe…" Mal said, his voice tense with dread. "… is that…?"

"Right over our previous flight path, Sir."

They watched as the monitor showed a ship being pulled apart by harpoon cannons and chain-links.

"River saved us all. That could have been Serenity." Mal said, his mouth wide open.

"That _would _have been Serenity." Zoe corrected. "And it still could."

* * *

_End of episode one. The story is continued in episode two._

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